Fear Itself working title
by shandromand
Summary: Harry's summer away from Hogwarts after Order of the Phoenix. Chapter 4 is up!
1. Default Chapter

Disclaimer – This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by J. K. Rowling, various publishers including, but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books, and Raincoast Books, and Warner Brothers, Inc. No profit is being made, and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. In the interest of story continuity, a certain scene is taken at near-verbatim from Order of the Phoenix; they are in no way my work, but J. K. Rowling's.  
  
Spoilers: OotP  
  
Rating: ?  
  
Summary: Harry's summer away from Hogwarts after Order of the Phoenix. A suprising change in Aunt Petunia, a visit to Grimmauld Place, and a revelation from Snape himself.  
  
*author's note – I started to get this idea as I read OotP, but I'm having to go through it again and try to remember some details from the other four books. Consequently I've split this into three chapters – one is finished, two and three are soon to follow. Thanks to Wolfie for letting me shamelessly borrow her copies instead of buying my own. :p  
  
Fear Itself  
  
Chapter One  
  
The image of young Professor Trelawny stood within the Pensieve, small and ghostlike, as Harry sat in the chair across from Professor Dumbledore. She spoke in uncharacteristic rough tones:  
  
"THE ONE WITH THE POWER TO VANQUISH THE DARK LORD APPROACHES… BORN TO THOSE WHO HAVE THRICE DEFIED HIM, BORN AS THE SEVENTH MONTH DIES… AND THE DARK LORD WILL MARK HIM AS HIS EQUAL, BUT HE WILL HAVE THE POWER THE DARK LORD KNOWS NOT… AND EITHER MUST DIE AT THE HANDS OF THE OTHER FOR NEITHER CAN LIVE WHILE THE OTHER SURVIVES… THE ONE WITH THE POWER TO VANQUISH THE DARK LORD WILL BE BORN AS THE SEVENTH MONTH DIES…"  
  
Harry flashed back to the scene beneath Hogwarts nearly six years before. He stood staring down at the remains of Professor Quirrell and his ashen clothes. As with all his nightmares for the last several months, Harry ponderously looked at the Sorcerer's Stone. But instead of the smoky visage of Voldemort rising up to scream through him, he heard the awful voice from moments before.  
  
"You heard her, Harry. I cannot live while you survive, and so you must die at my hands. You have escaped me a fifth time now, but I know your secret, and I am coming for you." Harry heard a step behind him and turned toward the noise. The scene changed to the Death Chamber in the Department of Mysteries, deep within the Ministry of Magic. His godfather, Sirius Black, stepped forward from the shadows of the darkened doorway. It had seemed moments since Harry had watched him fall into that blackness.  
  
Harry started towards him, but stopped almost immediately, as he had done so many times before. "You're not him. Sirius is—"  
  
"Dead," rasped Voldemort's voice, issuing from Sirius' mouth. Harry could see the cold rage reflected in the impostor's eyes. "Dead from your own stupidity. You may be marked as my equal," Voldemort hissed with contempt, "but how I do enjoy seeing   
  
you suffer. It is like an appetizer before the delicious main course." This last sounded almost like glee, if a snake could be described as being gleeful.  
  
Boiling anger contorted Harry's face. "STOP USING HIM LIKE THAT!!" Harry slapped a hand to his hip, groping for the wand holster that wasn't there. With ponderous slowness, Harry's head turned to where his hand was searching. His wand, which he kept with him constantly, was nowhere to be seen on his hip.  
  
"Looking for something, Harry?" Voldemort's voice rasped. Harry looked back up to see the image of his godfather holding his wand. Taking each end in both hands, Voldemort snapped it in half with a resounding crack. Sparks showered out, accompanied by a distant, high-pitched scream.   
  
"Now I have you, you cannot escape." The visage of Sirius grew until all Harry could see was his face. His mouth opened and shrieked, moving forward quickly – engulfing Harry, swallowing him whole.  
  
Harry came awake with a wordless shout. He was sitting up in his bed at Number Four Privet Drive, covered in sweat. It was still dark, and he fumbled for his glasses when a hand placed them in his. With a start, Harry jammed them on his face, looking around.  
  
"It's only me, Harry." He recognized his Aunt Petunia's voice, which sounded odd without its usual contempt. "You've been muttering for the past half-hour. Fortunately Vernon has become a heavy sleeper and Dudley is away in Paris with friends. Do you want to talk about it?" She was sitting on the edge of his bed, but he couldn't see more than her shadow.  
  
Harry sat quietly for a moment, staring at the outline of his aunt. "It's the same nightmare, Aunt Petunia," was all he could offer. They had started almost as soon as he had returned home from the train station. Even though this scene had been repeated several times in the past few weeks, it still seemed unnatural to have his aunt appear so concerned. Petunia gave a small sigh.  
  
"Well, nephew, it's half-past four. Shall we have some tea then?" Harry responded with a polite yes, please and as soon as she stood, he tossed back the covers and found his slippers.  
  
As they made their way down the stairs, Harry recalled the moment they arrived home. Dudley had been silent, while Uncle Vernon began to rail at him. Aunt Petunia remained silent, and Harry was still so sunk in misery that he missed her lack of support.   
  
"Well, boy, I can't say as I'm too pleased at being threatened by your friends back at the station. Seeing as how we've been good enough to allow you to stay here after all the nonsense we've had to put up with the last five years… Well, I'm not having any ruddy freaks tromping up my walk every three days! You can send your messages, and you can make your phone calls, but not until everyone else in this house is asleep, you hear me, boy??   
  
"And since you're using the phone, you can help out around here. I expect you to cut the lawn every Thursday, and help your aunt around the house and garden whenever she needs it. You're going to earn your keep around here, starting as of this summer.   
  
"Since this Voldyperson is loose and after you, you aren't to leave the house without myself or Petunia for any reason. We've had an owl from that Dimbalore fellow at your school, and frankly I think it's a bunch of rubbish. Trying to scare us into treating you better, he is, and I resent it! Now go to your room!" Uncle Vernon seemed to be getting redder as he carried on. Now that he was finished, he was panting and staring balefully at Harry.  
  
Harry resolutely dragged his trunk up the stairs with one hand, while carrying Hedwig's cage in the other. He fumbled with his door and kicked it open. It wasn't until after he'd dragged his trunk in and settled Hedwig's cage on top of it that he noticed an addition to his room. A television!   
  
Looking at it, Harry instantly recognized it as one of Dudley's cast-offs, but the message was clear enough to him. If he was going to persist in watching the news, he could do it up here away from the rest of the household. There was no note to indicate who might have put it there, but Harry didn't care.   
  
After a few moments of stunned satisfaction, Harry closed the door and sat on his bed. Home. He didn't like the fact that he was going to be stuck here for a whole summer again. It was necessary, he knew, but he didn't have to like it. He had been hoping that he could go and stay with Sirius at Grimmauld Place this year. Harry tried to choke back the tears and failed.  
  
If only he had tried harder at Occlumency lessons, if only he hadn't tried to play the hero… There were so many ifs and Harry couldn't go back and change them. Sirius was gone, and it was his fault. Padfoot wasn't coming back, just like Nearly Headless Nick had said, and it served Harry right.  
  
Distantly, Harry had heard the car doors shut, and the engine rattle to life. Hedwig gave a quiet hoot. He barely noticed when the Dursleys' car backed out onto Privet Drive and drove away. He didn't care, so long as they were gone. He lay back on the bed, staring at the ceiling.  
  
Harry was surprised when, a short time after the car had gone, a light knock came upon his door. When he didn't answer right away, the door opened and Aunt Petunia leaned in. "Can I come in, Harry?" He nodded his head, wondering why she was asking at all. She came and sat on the edge of his bed, and had the strangest look on her face.  
  
Aunt Petunia waited a few moments before she spoke. "Harry, I want you to know something. Despite how Vernon and I might feel about what you are, we do want to see you grow up. Vernon doesn't believe much of what Dumbledore had to say in his letter to us, but I do. If you want to talk about anything, anything at all, I'll listen." Harry was completely taken by surprise. The look on her face was concern!  
  
"Vernon set the rules, and I'd have you follow them to keep the peace. Dudley is going to spend the summer in Paris with friends, and his father has gone with him on the TGV to make sure they meet properly. He's coming back tomorrow, so if you'd like, you can come down for supper.  
  
Harry stared at his aunt, wondering who had stolen her away and replaced her with a proper aunt. She moved as if to go, but Harry put his hand out. He looked at the telly and then back at her questioningly, unable to ask aloud.  
  
"Believe it or not, that was Dudley's idea. He got a new one at Christmas, and Vernon started in about how you were watching the news last summer. Your uncle couldn't understand why, but we all do now. Try to keep the volume down, and he's agreed to pretend you don't have it. Dinner's on in an hour." Harry watched her leave, stunned.   
  
That night, and nearly every night after, the horror visited him in his dreams. Each time he awoke to find his aunt sitting on the bed with him. It was comforting in its own way, but Harry could only manage to tell her about Voldemort being in them. That was all he could say without falling to pieces in front of her. She never pressed him, and she never coddled him, but she was there just the same.  
  
Vernon said very little to Harry, and did his level best to ignore his presence in general, which was just fine with Harry. Hedwig went out every couple of days, but his messages were short. Nothing much going on here… Things are fairly quiet… I'm getting fair treatment… Harry didn't really feel like saying much, but it wasn't safe to discuss anything more anyway.   
  
Harry wasn't surprised that his friends were doing little more than he was. Hope you're doing well… We can't wait to see you again… from Hermione. Ron had written similar messages, but also engaged in a correspondence wizard's chess game with him. Since Harry didn't have a proper board, he made do with a muggle set, but he only played half-heartedly.   
  
Fred and George even sent him some of their newer inventions for the joke shop once. Snap Dragons, which the package proclaimed in bold red letters to actually turn into four inch tall dragon statues that snapped at shirt sleeves and shoelaces whenever someone wandered too near. Harry wasn't even tempted to try it on his uncle, but it was fun to watch it natter at his shoes for a bit.  
  
George had written in his note that he and his brother had been working on a dragon that went round breathing flames. After starting a fire that had taken great effort to put out, they were back to the drawing board on it.   
  
The Falling Hat was entertaining too. It fit well enough when you put it on, but as soon as you moved about, it gradually grew to slip over eyes and ears. It also had a chameleon version that looked like any hat it touched. The best, they said, they were saving for Harry's birthday at the Burrow.  
  
Harry received the most suprising letters he had all summer that first week. One came from Snape, which was even more brief than any of his: Keep practicing, Potter – Prof. Snape. The meaning was clear enough – Harry was being told to keep up his Occlumency practice. He savagely tore the letter to shreds after reading it the first time.  
  
The second letter came from the last person Harry expected, Percy Weasly. It too was short, offering an apology for not believing him and that he would see him at the Burrow. Harry didn't know what to make of that, and so he tossed it in the garbage with the shreds of Snape's note.  
  
Summer dragged by, and Harry quietly watched the news, scanning for signs of Voldemort's activities. He was disgusted, but relieved that once again Voldemort had decided to stay low.   
  
Thursdays were taken up with lawn cutting, and helping his aunt weed the garden and pot plants. He stayed out of his uncle's sight as much as possible, left the house rarely, and spoke even less. The days dredged by as Harry made small attempts to work on his summer homework but seemed to make little headway in it.   
  
At least Hedwig was in a good mood. It was all Harry could do not to succumb to the cavernous hole in his chest each day. The night terror of his godfather's form and Voldemort's voice blaming him was a constant litany of truth. Aunt Petunia seemed to grow more and more concerned at his continuous silence. It made Harry long for the mother he'd never known. 


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2  
  
It was a hot, but dry Friday in Little Whinging, and Vernon Dursley was in a mood. He'd taken the day off, largely due to the fact that he had made a large sale the day before. The boy, he thought, has been much too quiet. Normally Vernon had an out-of-sight-out-of-mind attitude with Harry, which was mutually agreeable to both of them. Lately though, he seemed even more reserved than usual, which smelled like trouble to Vernon.   
  
Whenever he pressed Petunia about it, she would only shake her head and point to the desk. It held the letter from the boy's Headmaster, but Vernon still held the lot of it as rubbish. Something had changed in the way she looked at him. If he didn't know better, he'd have called it pity. Pure codswallop, that's all it was. Vernon had even gone so far as to reread the letter a second time.   
  
The only thing that Vernon believed for one second was the boy losing control and being banned from some sport or other after beating a classmate. This other nonsense about his friends being attacked and nearly killed, and the boy's godfather dying in front of him, he just couldn't believe it. What were those people to him? Served the boy right if it were true, getting mixed up with those freaks. But what if it were true? The thought nagged at the back of Vernon's mind now.  
  
Vernon had a chum at university who'd lost his mother to a car crash. Thinking back, the lad had been rather silent for several months after. He wouldn't step out with the rest of them, only sit in his room no matter how they tried. Finally, after much browbeating, he and his fellows had managed to bring him back into the world. Well the boy wasn't getting that kind of treatment, no sir. Let Petunia deal with it if she was of a mind to, or preferably his freaky friends.  
  
The kitchen door opened to admit the boy, who didn't look at him as he trudged past. He moved quietly to the hall and after a few moments, the shower upstairs guzzled to life. Petunia came in shortly after the boy. Seeing the Headmaster's letter in his hands, she got a determined look on her face.  
  
"vernon, its time we did something about Harry." She paused a moment, as if thinking of what to say next. "He isn't talking about what's happened, but its eating him away from the inside."  
  
"Really, Petunia, I don't know what's gotten into you!" Vernon exclaimed. "If even half of this," he held up the letter, "is to be believed, he's still trouble we don't want. Why've you suddenly taken the boy's--"  
  
"His name is Harry, Vernon. The least you could do is use his name, especially around him. He wakes me up at all hours with his night terrors, but all he'll say is that it's the same nightmare. We've been so hard on him Vernon. No real parents, and just after he finds someone close enough to it, he's lost him. I think its time we started treating him as he is."  
  
"And what would that be??" Vernon's voice raised a notch or two. It was annoying to have this woman, whom he'd known for so long, turn traitor on him.  
  
"Family, Vernon," Petunia replied in a quiet voice. Vernon could hear the row starting, but he didn't care. They were going to have a go right now.  
  
"Now you see here, Petunia!!"  
  
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
Harry let the hot water roll down his back, washing away the sweat of the day's chores. Aunt Petunia, he was beginning to realize, was genuinely concerned about him. He had thought, more than once, that surely this must be some new torment just waiting to happen. He kept waiting for the other shoe to drop, but so far it hadn't.   
  
He heard a loud thump from downstairs, but after a moment, no other sounds came to him. After rinsing off the soap, he shut off the water and got out to towel off. When he went into the hallway to go to his room, he could hear the raised voices of his aunt and uncle. He shrugged, since he couldn't understand what they were carrying on about.  
  
Harry dressed and sat at the foot of his bed. He stared at the trunk for a while, contemplating his summer homework, nearly finished. He shook his head and moved to the desk, which held Hedwig's cage and the chess game he was losing to Ron. Hedwig opened a lazy eye, but when Harry didn't look as if he were going to write anything, she closed it again. Harry stared a long time at the board: He was left with three pawns, a knight, a bishop, and his king. Ron's side had considerably more pieces. As he was trying to think what move would protect his king best, there was a knock at the door, which was promptly opened. That would be his uncle, no doubt.  
  
Sure enough, Uncle Vernon's tenor opened quietly. "Bo-- Harry, come down-- Would you come downstairs?" Harry turned to stare at his uncle. Never, ever, had his uncle asked him to do something. He looked red in the face, and it screwed up a bit as if the next word were the vilest he'd uttered. "Please?"  
  
Harry was so floored that he nodded and stood up. Vernon had turned to go as soon as he'd moved his head, and Harry followed him down the stairs. Aunt Petunia was standing at the bottom, purse in hand. His uncle grabbed the car keys from their hook by the door, and they all went outside. Where could we be going? Harry thought. As they all walked to the car, Uncle Vernon appeared to be walking rather stiffly. Aunt Petunia gave him a sideways glance that he couldn't read.  
  
When they got in the car, Harry finally found his voice. "Can I ask, where are we going?"   
  
Aunt Petunia turned around and winked at him, then replied in a neutral voice, "You'll see." With that, she turned around and the car started. After driving a while, Harry realized they were going to London. He couldn't help but wonder what was going on. The trip took not quite an hour, during which none of the occupants of the car said much.   
  
Harry's thoughts turned again to the memory of the Death Chamber. The scene replayed itself over and over again. Harry stared out the window at the rolling countryside, but all he could see was Sirius with that half smile slipping away as he fell through the doorway. After what seemed like the hundredth time, Harry realized with a start that they had arrived in London. Uncle Vernon appeared to be looking for a parking place, and they were near Soho. Surely not, Harry thought. It would be impossible, or unthinkable at least.  
  
When he'd found an empty stall, Uncle Vernon parked and shut off the engine. He turned and looked at Harry, giving his best 'behave yourself' look before getting out. Aunt Petunia also got out, and so Harry followed, still incredulous that they'd even think to come here. How would they even know where the Leaky Cauldron was, much less bring themselves to go inside?   
  
Uncle Vernon took the lead, moving down the street and turning down Frith Street. So much for that, Harry thought. The Leaky Cauldron was the other way. After a couple of minutes, they turned to face a ... restaurant? The sign boldly proclaimed the word Tomato. What on earth is this all about?? Harry was starting to get upset, but held his tongue as they went inside.  
  
A rather nice host led them to a table. Harry noticed that the room was well lit, and everyone seemed to have a smile on their faces. Everyone, that is, except Uncle Vernon, who had the distinct look like he'd rather be somewhere else. When they sat down, the host asked what their drink orders were. Aunt Petunia took tea while Uncle Vernon took coffee. Harry, not wanting to strain what looked to be his first dinner out with his Aunt and uncle, took a glass of water. His uncle seemed to nod at this, but his Aunt looked... disappointed.  
  
"Harry," who looked up from his menu to his aunt. "Happy Birthday." Harry did his best to smile, but really felt ill. His aunt nudged Uncle Vernon in the ribs. His face was practically buried in his menu, and he jerked a bit before he pulled it down. "Yes, Harry," he said his name with just a little too much emphasis, "Happy Birthday." He moved to stuff his face into the menu again when his aunt gave him a bit harder nudge. He cleared his throat a bit, and without looking at him, told Harry to order whatever he liked. Harry, absolutely stunned, could only nod.   
  
'Wonders will never cease today,' Harry thought, 'it's not even my birthday yet.' He looked over at his aunt, who only winked at him before returning to her menu. Well, since he was having a birthday dinner, he might as well try to eat well but not strain their pocketbook. Taking a closer look at the menu, Harry realized that the only thing he really recognized was pizza. 'Well that seems safe enough, and predictable too.' It said 10 Pounds, and as Harry contemplated whether dessert was safe to add, their waiter came up to the table with their drinks.  
  
"Good evening, my name is Tobias, and I'll be your wait-" he broke off and Harry looked up at a young man, probably about Percy Weasley's age. He was a bit taller than Harry, with blond hair, and slightly overweight. "Well, well, welcome to the Tomato, Harry Potter. What brings you out here tonight?" Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia both looked suprised to have a waiter that knew Harry. Harry was taken off-guard a bit himself.   
  
When he didn't answer immediately, his aunt answered for him. "It's Harry's birthday tomorrow," she said, simply. Harry didn't recognize Tobias from Hogwarts, which would be the only place he could imagine anyone recognizing him from.   
  
"I'm sorry, sir, but do we know each other?" Harry racked his brain, trying to place Tobias' face, but couldn't.  
  
"No we don't, but anyone would recognize that scar," Tobias pointed at his head with a smile. "I'm a Squib, and even we know who you are. Happy Birthday then!" Turning to look at Petunia, he asked, "Noisy, or quiet? He'll get free dinner, of course." Vernon's eyes lit up a bit at this, but Harry looked pleadingly at Tobias. Not missing the look he'd been given, he answered, "Quiet then," with a nod. He took their orders and returned a short while later for refills.  
  
Uncle Vernon looked at him a moment. "Boy, how is it that complete strangers know you, and what is a Squib?" He looked annoyed, but he actually seemed curious. Harry decided to answer the easier question first.  
  
"A Squib is someone born to..." Harry looked around to make sure nobody was listening. "one of us. They're normal people, with no ability at all, but they know our world." Harry wasn't sure how to begin on the other question.  
  
Uncle Vernon wasn't terribly patient. "But how does this chap know you? He recognized your scar, but I don't see how it's special." Aunt Petunia merely sat back in her chair.  
  
"Well, you remember how Voldemort killed my parents?" He waited for his uncle's curt nod. "He tried to kill me too, but his curse rebounded on himself. It was my mother, see - she used her death to protect me, a sort of countercurse. It killed him, but left me with this," Harry moved his hair to reveal the lightning bolt. Uncle Vernon looked as if he had trouble believing it, but didn't say anything. "Up to that point, nobody who stood up to Voldemort had lived to tell the tale -"  
  
"And you have," Aunt Petunia finished for him. She looked sad, but said nothing more.  
  
"That's what makes me so well-known. They call me the boy who lived." Harry looked down at the table. "I'd rather have my parents." His Uncle harrumphed, but said nothing more. Shortly afterward, dinner arrived. 


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3  
  
After Harry and his aunt and uncle had finished dinner, which was quiet for the most part, had left. Before going, Harry managed to slip a couple of Sickles onto the table for Tobias when his uncle hadn't been looking. Harry had no idea if the waiter needed wizard money. He was fairly certain that Tobias knew where to use it though.  
  
Leaving the restaurant, Vernon led the way, immediately followed by Petunia. She looked back to make sure Harry was keeping up occasionally. Harry was still trying to puzzle out why she had taken a sudden interest in him. After all these years of criticism, she actually seemed to care. It was a puzzle, to be sure, and Harry thought that there must be something for her to gain from it. Shaking his head, he continued to follow them back to the car.  
  
They had nearly reached the parking garage when a woman's voice shouted his name. "Harry!" The Dursleys turned as Harry looked around for the source of that shout. A short distance away from them, Harry spotted a young woman waving at him, making her way across the street. She had short dark hair, and a pale face. Harry instantly recognized Tonks and waved back. He heard his uncle grumble something rather uncomplementary, but ignored him.  
  
"Hey, Tonks," Harry said. She walked up to him and gave him a playful cuff on the shoulder. "What has you out and about in London? Business for the Or-" Tonks winked at him and held a slender finger to her lips. She was wearing canvas pants and a shirt that brazenly proclaimed the letters 'C.I.A.', and happened to be carrying a plain white plastic sack.  
  
"Actually, you caught me out shopping for your birthday present." She looked over at his aunt and uncle, who looked uncertain if they should come back over. Uncle Vernon in particular oozed impatience. She smiled and nodded at the Dursleys before looking back at Harry. "So, are you anxious for school to start up again? I imagine that there will be some time at headquarters before you go." At the mention of Grimmauld Place, Harry's mood darkened. Apparently this showed on his face, because Tonks sobered for a moment, "Gosh, Harry, I'm sorry. I didn't mean-"  
  
"It's okay," Harry answered quickly. He didn't want to think about that place right now. "I'm going to have to go back sometime," Harry said glumly. Tonks tilted her head a bit. "I am ready to go back to school though." Harry didn't really know what else to say.  
  
"Well, listen, Harry. I've got your present, and seeing how we've bumped into one another here in London... Would you be able to come back to HQ, do you think?" she asked. Harry pondered this for a moment and then looked at his aunt and uncle. They seemed curious, but content to wait a short distance away. His uncle no longer looked impatient, but he didn't appear as though he would keep much longer. He turned back to Tonks and hitched his shoulders in a shrug.  
  
"I suppose so, but you'll have to ask..." he couldn't finish the sentence. Tonks was looking at him strangely for a moment before she walked over to speak to the Dursleys. Harry stood patiently watching their conversation, but not really hearing them. His heart raced at the idea of going back to Grimmauld Place, but he was torn about whether he really wanted to go or not.  
  
Aunt Petunia walked over after a few minutes. "Harry, I know that Tonks lady - your headmaster mentioned her as one of the people who might come to see you. If you want to go spend some time with her, then that's fine." She looked as though she would rather he didn't. "I understand she's got a present for you, and I'm sorry we didn't get one for you this year - Vernon has his limits. You go on and have a good time, but," she interjected sternly, "be home before ten o'clock tomorrow night." Apparently there were limits to Aunt Petunia as well.  
  
"Thank you for the dinner, Aunt Petunia." At this she smiled a little and walked back to his uncle. Tonks had walked back over from Harry's uncle, who looked annoyed again. He watched them go into the parking garage before turning to face Tonks. "How'd you manage that?"  
  
"What, you mean getting you away for the night?" Tonks asked. "I just told them if I couldn't get you away from the house that we'd all come over and have your party there. Interesting Muggle, your uncle. He seemed quite flabbergasted at the notion." Harry could only too well guess the reaction his uncle had. "Well then, we can go to the Leaky Cauldron and floo back home then. Was there anything you wanted from Diagon Alley?" Harry shook his head. His school list hadn't arrived yet.   
  
"Off we go, then!" Tonks said spritely. She set off in the direction Harry and the Dursleys had come from. Harry followed beside her, watching other passers-by. Occasionally he glanced over at Tonks, who would look back at him with a smile. He managed a smile or two in return, and she even laced her fingers with his companionably. Harry, who wasn't used to close contact, felt a little warmth in his stomach at the gesture. 'Must be the pizza.' He vainly tried to maintain the thought as they walked back into Soho.  
  
By the time they reached the Leaky Cauldron, the evening sun started to wane. Harry hadn't been here in a while, but he still remembered the dim interior when he went inside. There were few witches and wizards inside, which seemed odd to Harry. Most of them were keeping to themselves, either hunkered over their meals or looking at the Daily Prophet. Harry knew that they were reading about the lack of activity from Voldemort or what the Ministry of Magic was doing about the recent news. Nobody paid him or Tonks any mind as she went over to the fireplace.   
  
"Now Harry, since we're going by floo, you'll have to come with me." Harry looked at her askance. "I'll explain once we get there." She took a pinch of floo powder and stood inside the fireplace, motioning for Harry to follow her. She linked her free arm in his, and tossed the floo powder down "Black residence!" she said, and a flash of green flames rose up over them.   
  
A gut wrenching motion threw them out into the kitchen at Grimmauld Place. Harry wasn't used to traveling with other people by floo, and consequently found himself in a tangle with Tonks on the floor. She giggle a bit, "Sorry about that, Harry. You know how clumsy I can be." They carefully separated, but not before Harry caught a whiff of her perfume. He turned his head and sneezed, apologizing as soon as he did.  
  
They stood and brushed soot and ashes off their clothes, which made both of them sneeze. The kitchen was empty, as Harry looked around. "Nobody else is here then?" Tonks shook her head, but smiled mischeviously. Harry stuck his tongue out at her. "So why'd we have to floo together?" Tonks grinned back.  
  
"Its part of the protections Dumbledore put on this place. We'll get you keyed to it tomorrow." Tonks set her bag down on the table and moved over to the cupboard. "Tea, or something stronger?" Harry's jaw dropped. "Eh, sorry Harry. I keep forgetting you aren't of age just yet. Tea then." She rummaged in the cabinet for a moment, and Harry looked over at the bag that held his birthday present. "Don't you even think about it!" Tonks mock-shrieked without looking.   
  
"Think about what?" he asked, innocently. Harry pulled out a stool and sat, watching Tonks as she moved over to the stove. She didn't seem so clumsy to him now as she set about making hot water. She pointed her wand into the stove and muttered, "Lacarum Inflammare." Sparkes flew down into the hole and presumably started the fire. Tonks slid the cover back into place and set the teapot on top of it.  
  
Turning back to face Harry, she leaned on the counter next to the stove. She looked at him, seeming to appraise him. "So, another day and you'll be sixteen. You feel any different?" Harry shrugged.  
  
"I suppose not. Am I supposed to feel different?" Tonks smiled but shrugged her shoulders.   
  
"I couldn't say, really. I know I didn't, but I thought I might ask. I know you've been owling us every few days, but Mad-Eye says you don't really write much. Actually he complains about canned messages, but then he's always complaining. Have the Dursleys been treating you okay?" The sudden change in subject caught Harry off guard. He looked back at her and blinked.  
  
"You know, Tonks, it's funny you mention that. We were just getting back from dinner when you found us. We never do that, go out for dinner, that is. They might, but I would stay home when they did. That was my first birthday dinner." Harry still wasn't sure if he was dreaming or not. "Probably my last one too," he added quickly.  
  
"What makes you say that, Harry?"  
  
"Well, they've never been, uh, nice to me. It was Aunt Petunia's idea, but Uncle Vernon didn't really like it that much. She's been acting strange all summer." Harry couldn't bring himself to say what had started it in the first place. As if reading his mind, Tonks asked the question.  
  
"Any idea why, Harry?" He shrugged his shoulders, but she looked as if she didn't totally believe him. Fortunately for Harry, the teapot began to steam, and Tonks moved to pour two cups. She brought them over to the table and set them down before sitting next to him. "Do you want to talk about it?" she asked without looking. Harry hung his head a little and shook it.  
  
"Not really," he breathed. He was not going to lose control in front of anybody. He was not was not was not. He kept repeating that to himself in his head, but before he knew it his head was buried in his arms on the table. He had tried to hold back all summer, and now here he was, sobbing in his godfather's kitchen. He felt an arm reach around his shoulder, and he tried to shrug it off, but it wouldn't let up. Finally he just gave up and continued to cry.  
  
After what seemed like forever, Harry finally calmed down enough to sit up again. Scrubbing the back of his hand across his face, he took the cup in front of him and drank. It had gone cold.  
  
-------------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
Just after Harry started to break down, the hallway door had opened. Tonks looked around and saw Snape, who stood in the doorway with that ever-present sneer on his face. She looked at him with a warning and shooed him away with her free hand. Snape closed the door without a word, but not before he shook his head in disgust. 'Oh, hang Severus Snape' Tonks thought.  
  
She consoled the poor lad for half an hour the only way she could, with quiet words and an arm around his thin shoulders. Harry eventually sat up again, taking a drink of his tea.  
  
"You must think I'm pathetic," Harry said, staring into the cup in front of him. Tonks was full of emotion at the very mention of this boy, no, this young man as being pathetic. She shook her head.  
  
"No, Harry. Look at me." He turned his head to face her, eyes full of sadness. "Harry, you can't just hold everything in like you have. It shows us how human we are that we can be sad. You've had your share of tragedy, and you have faced more than most of us in the Order ever have. If anything, you're very brave." Harry looked almost as if he would have another bout, but closed his and breathed deeply instead.  
  
Without opening his eyes, Harry spoke. "He's right, you know. It's my fault Sirius is..." It was obvious that he just couldn't say it. She tried not to be angry with him.  
  
"Harry, it is _not_ your fault my cousin is dead. It is Bellatrix LeStrange's fault - she cast the spell that caused him to fall--" Harry's eyes snapped open, a spark of anger within them.  
  
"But I went haring off without checking to see if it was true!" he shouted. She was taken by suprise at the force in his voice. "If I hadn't charged in like a glory-hound-"  
  
"Now you just stop right there, Harry Potter!" Tonks was just as suprised at her own voice as Harry was, but he had to hear it. "Where on earth do you get the idea that you were chasing glory? All you knew was that Sirius was in trouble, and none of us were around to help!" She paused a moment, trying to get a grip on herself. She continued in a calmer voice. "Harry, that could have just as easily been me, or Kingsley, or someone else. Sirius knew that he might die saving you one day, and he has. I wish it were some other way, but he's gone."   
  
Harry looked defeated. He stopped looking at her and went back to staring at his tea. He mumbled something about not changing the blame, but Tonks could tell they were both too tired to argue any more. She sighed and stood up. "Come on, Harry. Let's call it a night." He sat for a moment, before tipping his head back to finish his tea. He stood, and she wrapped her arm around him again. The left the kitchen together, and he put his arm around her as well.  
  
Once they had made their way quietly up the stairs, they stopped at the room Harry and Ron shared the previous year. Tonks pulled him into a hug. "I'm sorry I yelled at you, Tonks," his words muffled on her shoulder. She squeezed him a bit harder.  
  
"No harm, Harry, no harm. I'll be just down the hall if you need anything. He let go of her, and after a moment, she let go too. She looked at him with a weary smile, and patted his shoulder. He smiled back. 'Well there's one more for the night anyway' she thought. "Good night, Harry."  
  
"'night, Tonks." He turned to the door and when he started to go in, she fought the urge to pull him into another hug. She turned and walked two more doors down and went into her room. It wasn't until after she had climbed into bed that she thought to ask herself who Harry had meant when he'd said, 'He's right, you know...'  
  
******  
  
Okay, first of all, thanks for the reviews, everyone! Second of all, I lied - there's going to be at least one more chapter in this, and it may be several days before I can get it uploaded. In the meantime, I'd like to hear your thoughts on the second half of this one. Too much, not enough? 


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4  
  
Tonks awoke to the sound of muffled shouts. She rubbed sleep blearily from her eyes and sat up. After a few moments, the shouts started again. Since nobody else was in the house, it was obvious that Harry was having a nightmare. She got out of bed quietly and padded over to her door.   
  
When she turned on the light, Tonks glanced at the clock - it read twenty past midnight. She opened the door and crept into the hallway. Harry's cries were wordless, but tinged with an edge of panic. When she walked down the hall, his shout formed two distinct words, "Stop it!" followed by an anguished wail.  
  
Tonks let herself into Harry's room. The dim light from the hall seeped into the room enough for her to see him thrashing about in his bedcovers. She approached the bed slowly, calling his name. When she got to the foot of his bed, Harry sat bolt upright. Tonks breathed in sharply, but managed not to scream.   
  
-------------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
"Who's there?" Harry asked. He was doing his best not to sound afraid, but he was sure Tonks could see right through him.  
  
"It's Tonks, Harry. You're at the Order's Headquarters, remember?" Harry gave a little sigh and his shoulders sagged a little. She eased around to the side of his bed and sat next to him. The light was dim, but he could see the purple and yellow polka-dots on her white robe.  
  
Tonks put her arm around his shoulders and said, "There now, Harry, its only a bad dream." She gave him an encouraging squeeze, but he could only snort.  
  
"I could only wish it were a simple dream." He shook his head, as if to clear the grotesque images from his mind.  
  
"What do you mean?" Harry knew the question was coming, but he was still afraid of it. He put his head in his hands and scrubbed his fingers through his hair. He had to tell someone, even if they couldn't do anything about it. So he told Tonks about the nightmare, and how it was always the same. He told her of it's nightly occurrence, and that it woke him too early.   
  
When he finished, Harry noticed that Tonks was gripping him rather tightly. She felt awfully warm, and hint of that perfume he'd caught earlier seemed strong in his nose.  
  
"Harry, why haven't you told anyone about this?" He sighed a little, knowing that this would be asked as well.  
  
"I tried, at first. It was just, well, every time I tried to write it down, it came out sounding... I don't know, stupid, I guess. Childish, maybe." He was glad he couldn't see Tonks' face, her voice was full enough of emotion.  
  
"Oh, Harry! I knew we should have been checking in on you." She bent her head against his for a moment. "We've been worried that you wouldn't want to say if something was wrong. Dumbledore's been hoping you'd keep practicing Occlumency, but it sounds like it isn't working." Now Harry was glad that she couldn't see the look of guilt on his face. He hadn't tried, not even once - especially after that snotty little note Snape had sent him.  
  
"Well then, there's nothing to do for it tonight. Dumbledore needs to know about this, but chances are you'll have to have a sit-down with Severus." At the mention of Snape, Harry's shoulders tensed. "Now calm down, Harry. Sev's really good at what he does, even if he is a hooligan."  
  
Harry shook his head again and sighed. He didn't want to start talking about Snape right now. He still had his doubts as to who the man was loyal to in the first place. Thankfully, Tonks decided not to talk anymore at all. "Let's try to get some sleep then. Tomorrow's a big day."  
  
Tonks got off the bed, but instead of leaving she went and closed the door. When she walked back to Harry's bed, Harry asked, "Tonks, what are-"  
  
"Shush, now. You need sleep, and I..." she trailed off.  
  
"You what?"  
  
"I don't want to leave you by yourself, Harry," she said softly. He could almost swear he heard something more in her voice than worry. She climbed into bed next to him and snugged in close to him. Very close. "You'll just have to worry about propriety tomorrow. Besides, I don't snore." There was a smile in her voice.  
  
The perfume he'd caught when they flooed into the kitchen was still about her, faintly. To Harry it was intoxicating. He thought of the bed Ron slept in just a few feet away. "You know, Tonks-"  
  
"Nym," she interrupted.  
  
"Huh?" He had no idea what she meant by that.  
  
"Call me Nym, would you? Tonks works for most everyone, but it's been a while since..." She didn't finish the sentence. She had lifted her head to look at him, dark though it was. Harry knew that she was giving him somthing very special to her. He couldn't make sense of what he was feeling.  
  
"Nym..." he said. It sounded right to him. "I thought you hated yo-" she interrupted him again by pressing her lips to his. 'Oh bloody hell' he thought. He'd realized now what he was feeling. His mind echoed her earlier words - worry about it tomorrow. Harry gave in and returned her kiss. After a few moments, he moved one arm around her waist. His free hand reached up to stroke her hair, which had gone from slightly wavy to very curly. He did not miss her hand sliding down his back. He nervously stopped kissing her.  
  
"Uh, Nym..." Harry had no idea what he should say. Thankfully, Nym didn't let him.  
  
"Oh, shut up Harry," she laughed as she said it. 'Oh bugger' he thought as she moved in again.  
  
-------------------------------------------------------------  
  
Harry awoke with a mildly unpleasant tingling sensation in his left arm. He turned his head to look at Nym. She looked so peaceful. Harry sardonically listened to her soft snoring, and stroked her cheek.   
  
Their kissing had not turned into something more serious, physically. Even so, Harry felt that a strong bond had formed between them. He was a little bewildered that Nym saw something in him. It hadn't mattered last night, but now he had time to think.   
  
Nym wasn't anything like Cho Chang - she was older, for one. Maybe not old enough to be his mother, but close enough. She was also an AUror, so she'd most likely seen quite a bit while working for the Ministry. She was bound to be more complex than to be drawn to his 'fame'. So what was it then?  
  
His thoughts were broken by a muffled thump behind him. He rolled onto his back slowly, and saw Fred Weasley standing just inside his door. His brother George was just outside. Both were agape, and Harry didn't have to think hard to figure out what they thought had happened. He almost laughed, but he didn't want to wake Nym.  
  
Harry immediately sobered. What if Ron and Hermione were here? What would _they_ say? He made a shooing gesture with his hand. When neither looked like they were going to leave, Harry eased his arm from beneath Nym slowly. When he was satisfied that she hadn't been awakened, he got out of bed. He changed out of his pajamas into his regular clothes.  
  
After Harry had dressed, he walked over to Fred and pushed him back through the open door. Fred looked as though he were going to say something, but Harry held a finger to his lips with a warning glance. He mouthed the word kitchen and closed the door with a final glare.  
  
Harry moved through the darkened room leaned across the bed to nuzzle the nape of Nym's neck. She murmured and smiled, then ran her hand through his hair. "So I haven't scared you away then. What time is it?"  
  
"I'll have to turn the light on, Nym." At this she groaned, throwing the crook of her elbow across her eyes.  
  
"Well, if you must," she replied in mock irritation. Harry grinned and went to turn on the light. The clock read a quarter of five. Nym snarled at this revalation. "You slept well enough. Why are you up so early?" Harry debated on whether he should tell her about the twins. Honesty won.  
  
"Fred and George were here. You should have seen their faces, Nym." She threw her arm off her face and stared blearily at him.  
  
"Huh?" she said, shocked. Harry stifled a smile.   
  
"Fred and George," he repeated. "The Weasley twins? I think, no, I _know_ what they were thinking-" Nym sat up quickly.  
  
"When they saw us in bed together!" Nym finished for him. She groaned and flopped back down. "Oh, Merlin's Beard! We'll never convince them it was innocent. Never mind what we're going to have to do to keep them quiet."  
  
"I think I might have an idea on that, Nym." She looked up at him.  
  
"Oh, and how's that?" Harry only winked at her and grinned wickedly.  
  
"Come on, you, up. They'll be down in the kitchen."  
  
"If they know what's good for them," Nym muttered. She tossed back the blanket. "Is anyone else here?"  
  
"I doubt it, but you never know. Knowing those two, they were trying to get the drop on me with some new monstrosity they've cooked up." Harry remembered all too well the 'best for last' gag gift they had promised him. Nym nodded as she climbed out of bed.  
  
"Well then, Harry, shall we present a united front, or can you handle them by yourself for a few minutes?" Harry shrugged, then impulsively wrapped his arm around her waist. She let out a soft yelp. "Oof! All right then, let's go. She put her arm around his shoulders. Together they flounced out of the room. The hallway was empty, so they went downstairs.  
  
The kitchen was warm but quiet. The Twins were nowhere in sight, but there was a small package on the table. Propped against it was a card that said 'Open Me'. Harry gingerly picked reached for his 'present'.   
  
Harry immediately snatched his hand back as it rustled and gave a tiny shriek. The wrapping was torn off from within, and what looked like a Weasley Snap-Dragon emerged. The creature gave another cry at the sight of Harry and reared back, as if inhaling. Before he could duck, it opened its jaws wide and spewed out purple flames. Harry and Tonks both yelled as they were engulfed. They beat at the flames to no avail. Even as the fire spread, Harry realized sheepishly that he wasn't feeling any heat. His clothes had all the appearance of smoldering and burning, but remained cool and intact.  
  
Harry looked over at Nym, who had also understood the joke. She looked somewhere between cross and hysterical. As if on cue, Fred and George appeared out of thin air. Both were howling with laughter and pounding each other on their backs. Fred even danced a little jig, but had to dodge Nym's sudden rush forward.  
  
George spoke up. "Oh come off it, Tonks! You almost spoiled our prank on Harry. We just had to get even with you too. Fair trade for stealing our thunder, wouldn't you say.  
  
"About that..." She paused in her reply to look about the kitchen, which was burning merrily. It gave the room and everything in it an indigo hue. "How do you stop this? Its all very fun, but I can't think straight." She crossed her arms, which caused her upper half to go up in flames. Harry couldn't help but laugh.   
  
Fred had recovered from his tumble. He walked over to the table where the dragon sat. As he moved closer, it screeched and set him ablaze. Unperturbed, Fred rapped his knuckles on the table next to it twice. The dragon snorted with a tiny puff of smoke (which sounded to Harry more like a small animal sneezing) and curled up to sleep. The flames immediately died down and disappeared. As he expected, everything was unscorched.  
  
"Harry, if you think we find it funny, you should have been there when we were still experimenting." George leaned close to Harry and Nym conspiriatorily. "Fred dyed himself purple after we got the illusion right. He was stuck like that a whole week."  
  
"Hey, not fair changing the subject, George," Fred said quickly. "I want to hear about Harry's best present this year." He looked at Harry and Nym smugly.  
  
Nym's answer startled Harry a bit. "Ask us no questions and we'll tell you no lies." George's mouth dropped open, and Fred blinked. Surely Nym wasn't going to let them think they had... Harry did his best to stop his imagination from traveling the path. She continued. "Honestly, Fred Weasley! What business is it of yours, anyway? You both had best keep quiet. If you don't, I'll turn the both of you into newts, and you will _not_ 'get better'." Nym's voice carried humor, but she looked half-serious. She was going to let them think whatever they liked!  
  
George didn't look at all worried, and neither did his brother. They looked to Harry. Knowing better than to try changing their minds, Harry went along. "Oh no, don't look at me! If I learned anything at all last year, its never kiss and tell."  
  
Fred choked, "You did! Well happy birthday!" He worked up another wicked grin. "I wonder what mum will say."  
  
George mimicked Mrs. Weasley's high pitched shrill. "Harry Potter, shame on you! A boy your age! And you!," he pointed at Nym, who managed to cover a smile with her hand, "You should know better! You're old enough to be Harry's mother!" Nym stamped her foot.  
  
"Now see here, George! I am not! If you say that again, I'll box your ears till you think you're hearing Big Ben all day for the rest of your life!" Her hair had instantly turned an impossible color of scarlet. George threw up his hands.   
  
Harry did his best to sound serious. "You'll say nothing to your mum, either of you," he said, darkly.  
  
"Or what?" they asked, in unison. Harry leaned in close to them, and they to him. After a whispered statement, Harry leaned back and sat down. The twins stared at him in horror.  
  
"You wouldn't!" George accused.  
  
"Try me," Harry grinned evilly. George made a zipping gesture across his lips.  
  
"Fine then, spoil our fun." Fred answered. "We won't say a word. But if you two keep acting friendly, we won't have to." Harry hadn't even noticed that Nym had scooted a chair next to his. He had laced his fingers between hers, their hands resting on the table. Apparently she didn't care what anyone thought. Harry was a bit nervous about this, but trusted her judgement. She gave his hand a little squeeze, and he stopped worrying.  
  
Fred looked at them, then at his brother, and shook his head. "Well, much as we hate to miss you making eyes at each other, we've got a shop to run. You two have fun, but not too much fun." George laughed and wiggled his eyebrows at them. Harry deliberately rolled his eyes. "Oh, before we go, mum's bringing everyone over at ten. That should give you at least a few hours of, _hem-hem_, privacy." Nym blew a raspberry at him. "_Happy Birthday_, Harry. Tonks." With a loud crack, George disapparated. Fred gave Harry a thumbs-up and winked at Nym. _CRACK!_  
  
Nym laughed throatily. "Those two! 'Old enough to be your mother', indeed! I'm not even thirty yet." Harry managed not to look suprised. 'Almost thirty??' he thought. He hadn't realized, or even really thought about it up til now. "So what did you threaten them with?" She looked at him quizically.  
  
Forgetting about numbers, Harry winked at her, then pulled her in close. He grazed his lips across her cheek and whispered in her ear. Nym laughed even harder than she had before.  
  
"Y- Y- You wouldn't!" She lauged again. When she subsided, Harry answered.  
  
"Oh yes I would. After some of the stuff they've pulled on me and Ron, I think turn about is fair play. I'll give them a chance though." Harry stifled a laugh of his own, but couldn't help smiling.  
  
"Oh those poor boys! I almost feel sorry for them if they spill. Their mother will skin them alive," she giggled. She ran her hand through his hair, her other trailing around on his back. "Shall we go back to bed for a bit?" Harry glanced at the clock. It was nearly six now. He nodded slowly.  
  
"I'd like that, Nym- but we aren't..." he trailed off nervously. Nym pulled away and took him by the shoulders. The look in her eyes was serious, but full of emotion.  
  
"No, Harry, not that. Now isn't the time, but maybe... We can't anyway. I know for a fact that Molly and the others will be here at eight-thirty. Those boys, honestly!" she rolled her eyes. Harry wasn't terribly suprised at George's deceit. He let himself be led, arm in arm, out of the kitchen.  
  
--------------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
a/n - Okay, I swear to goddess, I'm trying to get this done! It keeps getting more interesting, and I'm having more fun with this than anything else I've written in a while! My imagination is a curse, sometimes, I swear (again)!  
  
Many many many thanks to those of you who've r&r'd the story. I'm starting to think this is swinging away from the title. Any suggestions might be premature, but if you've got one, please by all means. :)  
  
As to the Harry/Nym (yes, I'm calling her Nym now), don't you think JKR is paying just a little bit extra attention on her than the other ancillary characters? It might be my imagination, but I think she is. That's what got me started down this path. Well, okay, I've been listening to music like Space (Female of the Species), Dirty Vegas (Days Go By) and Stabbing Westward (What Do I Have To Do). Remember kidz, if you download the tunes while in the US, RIAA will sue you! :p Good music always helps me write better (usually). Anyway, I digress.   
  
As far as Harry and Nym go, I need to state this now. I WILL NOT WRITE SMUT OR SLASH. I'm not good at that, and I don't like it, so please don't ask me to. I won't spoil the story for you, but here are hints of the next chapter: The Birthday Party, a chat with Snape, and going back to Privet Drive. (I think I'll fit that all in one chapter anyway). Will I follow Harry into year six? Who knows? I'm starting to try thinking of ideas now, but if anyone has some good brainstorms (that haven't been done to death already), I'm definitely all ears. Chapter five has a good grounding, I just need to write it. Since net access is still spotty, I'm going to tentatively say next week. Cheers! 


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five 

Harry and Nym spent the next hour holding one another in bed. Now knowing that he wouldn't be put in an awkward position, Harry was more relaxed. As they lay there, they spoke of Harry's interest in becoming an Auror. He told her about how he was getting along in Potions. He was sure that Snape hated him more than anyone else, and would preen at the fact that he had stopped Harry's ambition. 

"Now, Harry, I know Severus and you are always tense around one another, but remember - he doesn't grade your O.W.L.'s or your N.E.W.T.'s. Besides, The Ministry doesn't care so much about the grades in classes for just this sort of reason. Oh, sure your marks are important, but your tests carry more weight. 

"You'd be tested again, of course. Don't forget that we train you for three years after you graduate. No, Harry, don't worry about Professor Snape. If you want to be an Auror, and you work hard, you will be." Hearing this reassured Harry a great deal. He felt like he had the advantage on Snape now. 

They lay quietly for a while, when a thought occurred to him. "Nym, how long have you felt this way?" He felt like he had to know. 

"About you? I wasn't sure until last night, but I think it started last Christmas. Does it really matter?" Harry shook his head. 

"Not really, Nym," he gave her shoulder a squeeze, playing it off. "I was just curious." He sighed. After a few moments he said, "I miss him." She hugged him closer. 

"I know, Harry. I miss him too - we all do." They said nothing more until it was nearly time to get up. As they sat up, Harry was suddenly seized of a notion. 

"Nym, I don't care what the others think. Let's not hide anything." Harry had no idea where the impulse had come from. 

"Yes, dear." Nym beamed at him. "That which does not survive in the light of day has no place in the world." They pulled each other into a brief kiss. "What do you say we don't give anyone else the wrong idea, though, eh?" Harry nodded heavily, but smiled in spite of himself. 

"See you in the kitchen?" Harry nodded. He watched Nym walk to her room and go inside. She threw a soft smile over her shoulder before going inside. He couldn't see how she (or anyone else for that matter) thought of herself as clumsy. Maybe it was an act. Harry smiled. He'd been doing that a lot lately. It was likely that he would be doing a great deal more in the future. Harry decided he didn't mind much at all. He went downstairs, and for the first time that summer, he felt happy. 

As he rounded the staircase to make for the kitchen, he heard a noise in the entry hall. Turning back to face the door, he saw Snape. 'Well, the good day couldn't go on forever,' he thought. 

Snape looked at Harry for a moment. "Feeling better, _Potter_?" Snape's ever-present sneer coated his voice like oil. 

"I was, until just now, Snape." Snape glared back. 

"Manners, Potter." Harry turned and started away from Snape without a second glance. "Potter," Harry stopped and faced the Potions Master again. Snape thrust a small box wrapped with tissue paper. "_Happy Birthday_. Oh come now, don't stare at me like a dead fish." Harry closed his mouth hard enough to make his teeth click. "Perish the thought if _I_ ever give you anything but guff, Potter. The Headmaster sends his _warmest_ birthday wishes and his apology for not coming himself." Snape was, if possible, even more contemptuous than usual. He waved the package at Harry again, which he numbly accepted. 

"Where is Professor Dumbledore, _sir_?" Harry asked. 

"On important business for the Order which does not concern you. Open your present." Harry obeyed, tearing off the thin paper, which revealed a flat box the size of his palm. The outside was covered with a fuzzy blue material, not unlike the kind jewelry came in. When he opened it, a small card fell out, but he ignored it. 

Inside the box was a medallion made of silver. It bore the symbol of his House, the lion, on one side. The detail was very fine - he could even see the pupil in the lion's eye. A complicated looking chain was wound through the loop at the top of the medallion. Many strange symbols were etched on the reverse side when he turned it over. Some he recognized from classes, but most he did not. 

"Put it on, Potter. Wear it with the creature facing out, so the symbols ride against you. Do not take it off for any reason." Snape seemed rather pleased about this, which irritated Harry. 

"Why? What does it do?" 

"Manners, Potter. It will shield your mind better than you have been. Get on with it!" Harry thankfully put on the medallion. Anything to stop the nightmares had to be better. "We will talk later, Potter." Snape turned on his heel and stalked out the front door. 

Harry stood there for a moment, but couldn't sense any change in his mind. He bent down and picked up the fallen card. Opening it, he found a simple birthday card with a note enclosed.   
  


Dear Harry,   


Happy Birthday. I must apologize that I will be unable to come to your party. Have a care to keep the amulet on at all times. Severus has told you what it will do. It will help, until you can resume your Occlumency lessons with him. I know that there is little regard between you and he, but I must ask you to have patience with one another. After the events of the previous term, you of all people should know how important this is. 

I know that you have had little reason to be happy, Harry. Your Aunt and your friends are all quite worried about you. For my part, I can understand how you feel. I also know that you have recently found a source of comfort, or rather, she has found you. While I cannot attest to the wisdom of this, you are both entitled to your happiness. Please forgive an old man's concern - follow your heart, Harry. 

There has been discussion here at Hogwarts, and the staff and I have reached an agreement. We ask you to continue teaching your fellow students Defense Against the Dark Arts, as I have been unable to find a replacement teacher yet. If you all are agreeable, those classes will be taken up by yourself, Mr. Longbottom, Mr. Weasley, and Miss Granger. The official title will be Student-Instructor, and I thought you might like to ask your friends for us. Without trying to sound presumptious, Professor McGonagall will be sending your adjusted schedules along with the results of your O.W.L.'s. 

I hope this letter finds you well, and I'll see you at Hogwarts.   


Sincerely, 

Albus Dumbledore   
  


Harry had absolutely no doubts as to whom Dumbledore was referring to. He wasn't even really phased by essentially being handed Defense Against the Dark Arts. 'He really does know everything,' Harry thought. As he reread the letter a second and third time, Nym came down the stairs. 

"Wotcher, Harry?" she asked. Harry handed her the letter, and stuffed the box and card in the pocket of his jeans. She scanned the contents of the letter, her jaw dropping. Handing it back to him, she said, "Well now! He really does know everything! Better still, that position will be something to put on your application at the Ministry." Nym gave him a big wink. 

"I was just thinking the same thing, Nym. How do you suppose he knew so soon?" Nym pondered the question for a few moments. 

"Phineas must have been in his painting. That would be the only explanation I could think of. Come on, let's get some breakfast." They linked arms, and then made their way down to the kitchen. Phineas Nigellus seemed to be a logical explanation to Harry. The former headmaster had visited him in the painting in Harry's room last Christmas. 

When the entered the kitchen, it was dark. Nym grumbled about the fire having gone out. Just as she was about to make her way over to the fireplace, bright light spr ng into the room, and they were buffeted with a shouted, "SUPRISE!!" Harry and Nym both jumped, and the smiles around the room grew wider. 

Looking around, Harry saw all the Weasleys, including Fred and George, and, suprisingly, Percy. Hermione was also there, and he did not miss the quick glance she directed between Nym and Harry. Her parents stood behind her, looking slightly bewildered, but smiling no less for it. Harry spotted Neville, who was standing next to Ron. He also spotted several members of the Order mixed in the crowd: Remus Lupin, Mrs. Figg, Mad-Eye Moody, Kingsley Shacklebolt, and a few others that he didn't recognize. 

Harry barely had time to register the room's occupants when he was engulfed in a hug by Mrs. Weasley. "Happy Birthday, dear." Ron and Neville followed, Hermione immediately behind. He cast a glance at Nym, who gave him a helpless gesture before walking over to Kingsley. Harry was immediately deluged with birthday wishes from his fellow Gryffindors. 

"So Harry, having a good summer?" Ron asked. Harry gave a nod. Neville nodded too, but Hermione looked almost as if she didn't believe him. "Fred and George told us all about your run-in with their newest gag." Ron laughed a little nervously. "Wish I could have been there, mate. They said the look on your face was worth all the trouble they went to." 

Harry was relieved to hear that the twins seemed to be keeping their word. He knew that he and Nym didn't care if the others knew, but he would very much rather not have Fred and George telling their own version. It could wait a while though. 

Hermione broke in on Harry's thoughts. "Harry, we've all been really worried about you. You never said much in your owl's and - Ow!" Ron interrupted her by stepping on her foot. 

"Give him a break, Hermione." Ron rolled his eyes and looked at Harry apologetically. "She's done nothing but drive me mad with owl after owl about you. I tried to tell her to give over, and that we were playing wizard chess by post." Hermione looked exasperated and about to say something, but Neville cut in first. 

"Hey, Harry, did you know they want you to help teach Defense Against the Dark Arts?" Harry nodded, but held the rest of the news for now. "I'll bet Snape was ready to eat his own liver over that." Neville laughed, and Harry noticed that he seemed completely at ease. So that was why Snape had been frosty – Harry hadn't even really thought about it until Neville pointed it out. Snape was always being nasty to him. 

"I've got some good news for you three, but not now. Neville, how'd you manage to get out of the house?" Neville stuck his tongue between his teeth and wrinkled his nose. 

"Not much choice on that. Gran got a note from Ron's mum about the suprise party and insisted I get out of the house for a change. Mrs. Weasley came and got me about an hour ago. I positively hate flooing." Harry nodded, remembering his first time through a fireplace. 

"Yeah, at least you got where you were supposed to be going the first time." Harry laughed in spite of himself. Everyone else had started to filter over to the four of them. Each one wished Harry a happy birthday, and Mr. Weasley introduced him to the people he didn't know. 

The two men, Thomas Clapperton and Quincy Athmus, looked a great deal alike. Both were seemingly middle-aged, but grey-haired fellows. They greeted Harry with the same well-wishing. Gabrielle Deosil was a short, dark-skinned woman who worked at the Portkey office. Vilenya Whyte was an older woman, probably close to Professor McGonagall's age. 

After the introductions were made, Mrs. Weasley raised her voice over the general babble. "All right, you lot, time for breakfast!" She smiled and started directing everyone to the table, which was laden with fruits, biscuits, and bagels. Not long after they were seated, bacon eggs and sausage followed. 

Harry had managed to sneak in next to Nym, who gave him a bright smile and a pat on the knee. Ron sat next to him, and Neville next to Ron. Hermione and Ginny sat opposite from them. 

Hermione caught Harry's eye, looked at him rather pointedly for a moment. When he gave her a questioning look, she looked at Nym and back at Harry. He looked over at Nym with a smile, before looking back at Hermione. Ginny hadn't missed the wordless exchange. 

Hermione sniffed before helping herself to sausage and eggs. Ginny looked confused for a moment, and quietly asked Hermione something he couldn't hear over the chaos of breakfast. Hermione's answer also went unh ard, when Harry felt a finger poke his arm. 

"Harry, did you hear what I said?" Ron frowned at him. Harry shook his head to clear it. 

"Sorry, Ron. What were you saying?" 

"I was asking you if you'd been keeping up with the Chudley Cannons." Harry shook his head. "Well, they seem like they've got a good chance to win the League Cup this year. Last week they trounced the Ballycastle Bats, 150 to 30!" Ron was getting more and more excited as he went into a play by play description of the match. Harry listened with enthusiasm - this year would be the first in a long time if the Cannons' winning streak held. 

Breakfast eventually wore down, and soon Harry was being handed presents. His present from Ron was predictable; lots of chocolate frogs and a Chudley Cannons pennant. Hermione had given him a lesson planner and a muggle book called Teaching Made Simple. He couldn't wait to tell her that she would need it too. Fred and George gave him a card that came with the instructions for the 'Flaming Terror'. 

Charlie and Bill had apparently teamed up to get Harry new Quidditch gear, while Percy had thrown in with Ginny to get him a leather-bound journal. Ginny had made a slipcover for it, and warned him that it would chase him around the room each night until he wrote in it. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley gave Harry new winter gloves and a weighty key ring with the Gryffindor lion on it. 

Lupin and Mad-Eye had each given him books titled _Advanced Countercurses_ and _Protective Charms That Will Knock Their Socks Off_, which Harry flipped through eagerly. It was obvious that news had either traveled quickly, or the Hogwarts Staff's decision was made much earlier. 

Hagrid sent pictures, one which showed Hagrid and Grawp wrestling in the Forbidden Forest. The other photo showed a very much-grown Norbert, who alternated between preening and breathing fire. Mrs. Figg apparently thought Hedwig should get something as well, for she had wrapped a cage-mirror and some owl-toys. 

Kingsley (whose card had signatures from those not present) had given him a rather impressive writing set, including disappearing ink. The newer members of the Order, not knowing what else to get him, gave him birthday cards with 20-Galleon vouchers from Gringotts. 

Finally, Nym brought Harry his present, which had been removed from its plastic bag and wrapped in a shiny green paper. Tearing open her present, Harry discovered three books: _Human Transfiguration_, _Use of Muggle Disguises Made Simple_, and _So You Want to be an Auror: Training and Preparation_. Harry was overjoyed at the last one, and eagerly skimmed the pages. While it wasn't a thick book, it looked like it would give him a better idea what to focus on. He couldn't resist the urge to give Nym a sideways hug, which he got in return. 

Harry thanked everyone for their gifts. Most of the adults gave nods and smiles, then began to talk amongst themselves. Taking this as a signal that breakfast was over, Mrs. Weasley waved her wand. Plates, uneaten food, and wrapping paper all whisked to their various places. 

"Harry," Ron said, "you've made out like a bandit!" he waved his hand at the stack in front of Harry. "You need some help getting all that upstairs?" Harry nodded, and looked over at Hermione and Ginny. They had their heads together, so he had little chance of getting their attention. He turned back to Ron and Neville, who were gathering up books and boxes. 

Harry gathered the rest of his presents, but before leaving, he bent and spoke quietly in Nym's ear. "Do you think you might have Hermione and Ginny come up when they finish gossiping about us?" Nym chuckled and nodded, then gave him a peck on the cheek. Harry ignored the look Ron gave him and made for the kitchen door.   


a/n okay okay okay! :p I know you guys have been waiting patiently for this chapter, and it got too long, so I've already got part of the next chapter done. This is getting harder as I go, delving into unknown territory (in several ways). Originally I had just intended to write about Harry's summer – the bits about the nightmares, Aunt Petunia, and Snape. 

Somehow or other Nym has managed to step in and turn everything upside-down. Worse, I have no idea how it happened. One night I'm sitting in front of the computer, minding my own business, and here's this idea that taps me on the shoulder. When I look, it's standing there with a club, and its tapping it in the other hand as if to say, 'You better do it, or else'. Does this happen to anyone else when they're writing? I always imagine it afterward as a short furry white critter that has the word IDEA in big black letters across the front. I honestly didn't plan on becoming a shipper, really, I swear! 

Well, I digress, next chapter goes into the Harry's classmates, their thoughts on the coming year, Percy, and perhaps Snape (finally). Yes, you heard me right, Percy. This is the only idea I have that's passed the concept stage. I have part of the dialogue between Harry and Snape written, but it sounds a little strained. I won't make promises (still no internet at the house yet), but I'll try to get it up within the next week or so. 

As far as going into year six, I'm still not sure what the main focus will be. I'm sorry, but I just can't make it all about Harry and Nym – it wouldn't be realistic. I've been kicking around some of my unarmed ideas, all in good fun of course. We'll see what happens as I write. 

Many thanks to all the reviewers for their kind words, and I will do my best to live up to all your expectations. :) 

a/a/n Sorry for the cutoff for the last couple of tries uploading this - I have no idea what happened. I switched to html for a change of pace - sorry if it looks strange. :/ 


End file.
